


The Invasion of Privacy

by Ember Nickel (primeideal)



Category: Ender's Game - Orson Scott Card
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-02
Updated: 2012-02-02
Packaged: 2017-10-30 12:32:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/331776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primeideal/pseuds/Ember%20Nickel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don't worry about the world ending today. It's already tomorrow in New Zealand. Originally written December 2006.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Invasion of Privacy

The beach was undulating, sand forming multivariable patterns trampled in the darkness. The woman who dragged equipment behind her was not interested in the beauty, and not pleased at the irregularity of the land below her feet. It figured, she reasoned, that the best English-speaker on the stupid island would be a little stargazing twerp. Or at least, the most photogenic English-speaker.

There he was, toes digging in the wet sand. He made a little lagoon, the walls almost as wet as the water that streamed in, that melted away.

"Hello?" she called.

He looked up at her, corners of his lips raising to acknowledge her presence, then returned to the futile digging.

"Do your people have footwear?"

"My people?" he laughed, pointing to his sneakers and socks several dunes away. "Mom doesn't like it if I bring lots of sand into the house."

This was not at all going the way she wanted. "Is this a big deal to you, or do you use a more…traditional…calendar?"

"Of course it's a big deal!" he exulted, kicking up sand. "I get to stay up late!"

Maybe she could do a feature on globalization. "All right. Thanks for your time." She walked off, wondering if these people had a wi-fi connection.

Uncomfortably, he waited until she was out of sight to resume his solitary activity. Eventually, even that became boring, and he peered into space.

So it was that at the stroke of midnight, Mazer Rackham looked into the patch of darkness occupied, though he could not see them, by the enemy.

The Y2K Buggers.


End file.
